


Time For That Too

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction
Genre: F/M, Gen, Genderswap, M/M, cis-girl!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/1656625.html?thread=12925489#t12925489">this prompt</a>: "girl!Niall/Josh - 1D can all be girls or just Niall is a girl or there's a mix, but they keep teasing girl!Niall about Josh (1D's drummer jsyk) and then the two get together. yup."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time For That Too

**Author's Note:**

> Niall is a cis!girl. Title from Hang With Me by Robyn. [[LJ](http://hostagesfic.livejournal.com/1111.html)]

The thing Niall likes about Josh is, he’s low maintenance. Niall knows some people would say that’s terrible, but she doesn’t mean that he’s not _worth_ a lot of attention, she just means he doesn’t act like a dick when she gives him less than he probably deserves. They’re mates, see, and Niall likes that he’ll stick up for her in the band, let her sleep on their bus when her own is too full of people who steal her underwear (Louis) or ruin her underwear (Harry) or are scandalized when they find her underwear laying about (Liam). Josh never messes with her underwear, but he never looks horrified when she wears short skirts and sprawls her legs out and shows them off, either. Zayn is in the same category, as far as “Ways Blokes Respond To Seeing Niall’s Knickers” but somehow it isn’t the same. Niall knows that’s probably A Sign or something, but she’d rather not dwell on it. 

Her bandmates, though, lately it seems like there’s nothing they’d _rather_ dwell on. “Worse’n Tumblr girls,” Niall swears, and Louis throws both arms up, elbow clipping Liam’s shoulder- “Goooooaaaal!!” 

They’re huddled up in the green room of- well, Niall thinks it might be Virginia? Hell, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that she can’t legally drink here, and it’s a drag. Harry is sprawled out with his head in Louis’ lap and his feet in Niall’s, and she takes the opportunity to untie his laces and retie them together. Petulance is not usually Niall’s style, but in the face of the boys, it’s sometimes the only option. 

“Niall’s just tetchy ‘cause she likes him,” Zayn drawls. He holds up a notebook, Sharpie held between his teeth, and they all peer at his helpful illustration. 

Louis asks, voice carefully polite, just enough to rankle, “Is that supposed to be-“ 

“Oh fuck off,” Zayn says, and glares at him. 

“I believe it’s our dearest Nialler giving Josh a packet of crisps?” Harry’s voice raises at the end, more out of amusement than query. 

“I think it’s cute,” Liam says, nicely.

“It’s _symbolic_ ,” Zayn sighs, “honestly, you lot.”

“Symbolic for Niall wanting to _hop on that_ ,” Louis cackles, “and for authenticity shouldn’t there be a nice bulge in Josh’s trousers?” 

“Jesus,” Niall says, and rolls her eyes. 

“Always good fun,” Harry says, and high-fives Louis proudly. “Seventh time today.” 

Liam gives Niall a sympathetic glance and throws an empty water bottle at their heads. “S’all fun and games until you make her do it so many times her eyes stick that way, mates.” 

Which, honestly- Liam should’ve known that could only encourage them, and they spend the rest of the evening making paralyzed faces of horror at Niall, Liam, and the crowd of who-knows-where. 

-

After the show they’ve got driving to do, which means venue showers (Niall doesn’t get dibs because they don’t do favoritism, but she does beat them in the fast and furious game of rock, paper, scissors). They’re in a hurry tonight, Paul calling a five minute limit, and Niall barely gets the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner rinsed out of her hair before Zayn is barging in, hands over eyes, “Don’t shoot, ‘m just the messenger, Paul says get out.”

Niall doesn’t bother turning the water off, just wrings her hair out, shakes her arms and legs and dances past Zayn to get to her towel on the counter. He peeks, and she swats at him, and it’s just another evening with One Direction, really. Niall wraps the towel under her arms and brushes her teeth while he strips down- she whistles past the foam in her mouth as he shimmies out of his underwear and sticks out his tongue at her, ducking into the shower stall. 

“Stealing your shampoo,” he informs her, and she grins, rinsing her toothbrush, and leaves the bathroom before he realizes it’s two-in-one and cajoles her into fetching his. 

Liam is coming in as she’s pushing the door open to leave, and he blushes when she motions grandly, “Enjoy the show!” 

-

Louis and Harry are nowhere to be seen, presumably torturing some poor staff member or leading Paul on a chase around backstage. Niall figures she should put on some clothes before heading outside to brave the fans around their bus, and is digging through her backpack in search of something moderately clean (or clean-smelling) when the door to the green room bursts open and Josh is peering around anxiously. Or, at least, as anxious as he ever gets. He might just be hungry. (This is another reason Niall likes Josh. He understands her priorities and has generally similar ones, himself.) When he fixes on her, he blinks.

“Harry and Louis said,” he starts, and then shakes his head, “ah, nevermind.” He goes to close the door, but ducks his head back around to ask, “I think they’re planning your bus to be a party tonight? Paul’s bought alcohol and the lads are joining, but I was going to stay on ours and turn in early, so I just thought, if you didn’t feel like-“

Niall figures the vague gesture he makes is supposed to encompass Louis and Harry and alcohol and their idea of a party. It’s a frightening combination to think about, and Niall is no stranger to their shenanigans. Or alcohol.

“We could grab some beer,” Josh adds, and Niall nods. It’s definitely a selling point.

“You’re a wise man, Devine,” she allows, and he looks pleased. “Yeah, just tell ‘em I’m bunking at yours tonight.” 

Niall blames her band for the fact that the words make her want to flush and giggle. 

-

Niall sprawls out across the bench seat in the back of the band bus, tugging her gym shorts down at the waist to be comfortable, making grabby hands for the beer that Josh has in hand. Josh is in sweats and a ratty tank top that Niall thinks looks entirely too comfortable. She kind of wants to steal it. "Gimme, Devine," she demands, and punches at his thigh with her toes when he sits down at the other end of the couch.

“Get’cher own,” Josh says, as he hands the bottle over anyway. His lips pull up at the corner, and he curls his hand, cool and wet from the bottle, around Niall’s ankle. “Good show tonight, by the way. You’re getting better at the whole not-flashing-the-band game,” he teases.

Niall tips the bottle back and waits until she's downed a good third of it before settling it on her stomach and looking over at Josh. He's- watching, which is. Niall isn't sure if that's new or not, but the way it flickers in her stomach is a surprise. His fingers are still wrapped loosely around one ankle, and she scoots down enough to hook her heels over Josh's thigh. "You like it when I flash the band," she says.

“You wear those shorts,” Josh says, putting on his best disappointed face. “Like, elastic type ones. The lack of knickers is very disappointing.”

"Spanx," Niall supplies, helpfully. "And believe me, I'd rather wear knickers. Those things don't _breathe_." She rubs her free ankle against the inside of Josh's thigh, settles her feet a little further up his leg. Niall isn't surprised that he doesn't pull away, but it's still pleasant, feeling Josh tense and relax under her touch. His fingers curling the tiniest bit against the warm skin of her other foot. Knowing she can have that effect on him. It might be new, but it's been long enough coming that Niall feels comfortable just slipping in.

Josh tips his head back and gives a sigh. "You just have the hardest life," he tells her, reaches out for the beer again, wriggling his fingers. The warm and sort of sweet way he looks at her couldn't possibly be the beer, because Josh is anything but a lightweight, but there's something in there that feels new to Niall, more than the usual affection in his crinkly smiles.

Niall's snort and, "S'mine, getch'r own," is automatic, but her eyes don't leave his neck, the line of his jaw and throat with his head sprawled back against the edge of the seat. He swallows and makes a slightly displeased noise that she can tell is for appearance more than anything else. Maybe the boys were right, and they have been playing around this for a while. Niall isn't sure there's a line to cross, but she's pretty sure she likes pushing it to see. She lets her knees drop open on the couch between them, leaning one against the back of the seat and sighing, wriggling to get more comfortable. "M'life is difficult, 'll have you know," she says, long-suffering. "Put up w' the lads, put up with you, can't even go out to bars to pull..."

Humming, Josh sweeps his fingertips up her shin. “Unless what you're looking for is a lady friend, it's not like you can't pull around here," he says, very pointedly staring at Niall's feet in his lap. He's trying to be casual, Niall can tell, but- but he sort of just implied _things_ , and.

"Not that I have anything against girls," Niall shrugs, "I mean, boobs are fantastic, and I'd shag Demi like- well. I guess everybody knows that though. But, eh." She shrugs. (Louis would say, "But I want your diiiiiiiick, Joooooosh," and Niall would punch him.) "Not that the boys'd say no if I asked, but I'd rather not, y'know?" She bites her lip, and wonders if it's too teasing, just shy of the point she's trying to make. But Josh's palm is warm around her lower calf, and his fingers are drumming against the skin steadily.

A little delayed, Josh nods. "Yeah, y'don't wanna make things awkward," he says, but doesn't sound much like he agrees with the thought. "Listen-" he begins, but cuts himself off, suddenly shutting his mouth like he scrapped the sentence entirely. Niall's not sure if pointing out the slight tint across Josh's cheeks would help matters.

She curls her hand around the bottle then, tighter to keep from slipping in the condensation, and holds it out. A sort of peace offering, but also- hell, Niall knows what it looks like, her closed fist around the glass, her thumb raised to trace around the lip of the bottle. "Yeah?" she says, and it doesn't feel like she's asking what he was about to say, it feels like she's saying, _we don't need to talk, you don't have to tell me._

She hopes he gets the same feeling. He has a good track record. Niall is cautiously optimistic.

(Niall would be more cautiously optimistic if he’d say something, or shove a hand down her pants, but she’d settle for him letting her keep the beer, too.)

Josh chews on his lip a little and takes the bottle, fingers lingering long enough to let Niall know that he gets it, to transmit thankfulness in a way only Josh can. He downs what's left of the beer and smirks, poking at Niall’s calf. “More in the fridge, I got the first.”

“You want another?” Niall asks, not moving, and really looks at him for the first time that night, licking her lower lip and then feeling ridiculously self conscious, tucking it between her teeth. 

Josh stares at her mouth. “Not really,” he says, licks his lips like he’s _hungry_ , chrissakes, eyes still trained on Niall’s lips- “Sort of feel like a snog. But like, only if you want.”

Niall snorts, which probably isn’t very flattering, but makes Josh smile anyway. Hearing it, although she’d hoped- expected, even- is enough to make her tummy go warm, and that’s silly, because half a beer... but who is Niall kidding. It’s not the beer. “Been a while,” she nods, business-like, and leans up on her elbows. “Y’re serious, right? ‘d be an awful prank if you weren’t. Not even funny, really, Josh,” and she knows that she’s babbling, now, but she can’t help it, because sure, she may be very good at not giving a shit and being a carefree mofo who lets her hair flow in the breeze or whatever it is Harry says but honestly, she doesn’t know how to blow this off. Doesn’t know how to hand-wave the way Josh is looking at her right now. It makes her giddy and nervous and christ, her palms are sweating. 

“As a heart attack,” Josh confirms, smiling in a way that’s so earnest and obviously-not-taking-the-piss that he looks almost like a kid. He makes to move, then, but Niall’s feet are sort of still in his lap and Josh doesn’t exactly look like he’s about to push them off. “So, like.”

“Y’gonna make me come up there?” Niall asks, and grins at him, and this, this might be why she likes Josh, above and beyond any of the other reasons, valid as they may be. Because he’s just sitting there with her feet in his lap, hands curled around her ankles and biting his lip and _waiting_ on her.

It catches Josh off guard. “Well, no, I mean, I can sort of-” and he leaves the thought hanging, slipping from under Niall’s feet and kneeling on the seat between her legs. “You can just lie down, I suppose, you’re. And I can hold myself up, I won’t crush you, promise.” He furrows his brows a little, hoping Niall’s understanding his choppy thoughts. He’s got more important things on his mind, namely kissing Niall, than coherence.

“ ’m sturdy,” Niall shrugs, and reaches for him, a hand settling easily on his neck and the other fitting to his bicep. “’sides, you’ve fantastic arms, ’m not worried.” 

“It’s in the job description,” Josh mumbles, and for all Niall knows it might be true, but she can’t be arsed to ask when Josh is leaning over her- fantastic arms settled at her sides, forearms lined up with her ribs- and kissing her, a soft and careful press at first, experimental. If the way he sighs through his nose is anything to go by, he seems to be enjoying it just as much as Niall.

It’s good. It’s really, really good, almost good enough for Niall to admit her band had been right and she should’ve been doing this a long time ago. Josh’s lips are soft and slightly damp against hers from the way he’d licked them, leaning in, and Niall has never been sure of first kiss etiquette, isn’t sure when it’s considered appropriate to go for the tongue, but she’s relatively sure Josh won’t, like, pull away or anything if she lets her mouth drop open a little against his.

The result is almost alarmingly positive. Their tongues slide together and Josh hums, gaining confidence; he licks across Niall’s braces and then past, swirling his tongue with hers, and only pulls away when breathing through her nose is getting kinda hard for Niall, which is a sign that they’re totally in sync and this is the best idea they’ve ever had, clearly.

He also doesn’t go far, which is lovely and so very considerate towards Niall’s plan to never stop kissing him ever for longer than a few seconds from this moment on.

“Shit,” Niall says, feeling a little dazed, and the first thing that comes to her mind after that is, “’m really glad the lads aren’t here to see this.” It’s not really supposed to come out, but Niall is currently the kind of floppy and flushed that usually only a good series of pints brings out in her. She blames Josh and his addictive mouth. His mouth that’s currently laughing, gently, all pink and glossy and fantastically available for her to pull back into another kiss.

The way he has to hold himself up with his forearms severely hinders Josh’s ability to touch much of Niall, so the next time they pull away, he presses his forehead to Niall’s, panting. “D’you mind if we sit up?”

Niall nods for the sake of being open to new things, and it’s a very pleasant surprise when Josh slips a hand behind her back and helps her sit up. She ends up nearly in his lap and he holds her close, threading his fingers through her hair as he kisses her once again. It’s something Niall could very easily get used to.

They kiss until Niall’s breathing hard and her lips feel numb, and she’s hot all over, can _see_ it when she looks down, her skin all mottled pink down her chest, under her tank, can feel it hot across her cheeks. Josh’s mouth is swollen and his- Niall has to swallow a small noise, because when she looks up and meets his eyes, they’re dark and she just wants- “Jesus,” she says, and stares at him, wonderingly.

“Nialler,” Josh says, breathy and staring right back. He looks lost for words. Niall really can’t blame him.

“Listen, you should go-” she gestures vaguely, flapping her arm behind her. 

“Go?” Josh asks, and his face has fallen so fast it might almost be funny, under different circumstances.

“No, no, like. Get us a condom, Josh, c’mon,” and she glances down quickly and back up, smiling. “Lock the door when you get back and stuff, this back door locks, right? The one on our bus does.”

Josh’s hand flies to his crotch and he makes a hurt little noise, still staring at Niall, look now turned to disbelief, and he has to shake himself to recoup. “Are- um. You’re sure? ‘Cause, I can just, ah. I’d really love to get you off, but I can go wank in the toilet later, I don’t have to- _you_ don’t have. Fuck. Really?”

“Quit being a wanker,” she reprimands, flicks his shoulder and scoots away. “Go on, then.”

Josh’s scramble up and off the couch is caricaturesque. Niall can hear him rifling through the mess in his bunk and then padding back to the lounge impressively fast. She gives Josh a wicked grin and a thumbs up when he waves the small packet above his head.

He pushes the door to with his knee, flicking the lock and then checking it, and is back to the couch in two strides, as if- and he sits down, facing her, hands in his lap. Niall has to grin a little at him, amused. 

For a lack of a better place to set it, Josh tosses the condom on the floor and takes a mental note of where it lands before pulling Niall close again, hands on her waist. This kiss is different; there’s still eagerness and a little bit of desperation, but now there’s an end, something to look forward to, that has Josh’s hands inching under Niall’s tank over soft, warm skin.

Niall arches into the touch, the way that Josh’s fingers are calloused and rough against her ribs but still gentle, like he’s really thinking every motion through. (She likes that, but there’s something about it that makes her want to see if she can get him to stop thinking altogether.) It was inevitable, of course, but somehow it seems to have snuck up on her, the way that her body responds to the attention- her nipples hardening even through her bra, the way her stomach is twisting up, hot and needy, under his fingers. She spares a thought, albeit fleeting, to wonder if she has any clean underwear left for tomorrow, because the pair she has on now definitely won’t be wearable.

Josh’s hands wander upward, over Niall’s ribs and up her back, and he really hopes he remembers how to do this right- it takes both hands but an impressively quick second to undo Niall’s bra and move his hands quickly to her breasts, and the sound she makes is surely a reward, even pressed into his mouth. He smiles and moves away from her lips, kisses down her neck as he thumbs over her nipples, delighted when she keeps making those pretty, needy sounds.

Niall somehow manages to get her hands into his hair, fingercomb it back from his ears and scratch her blunt fingernails at his scalp, down to the base of his neck. She’s saying something, or, she should be, but all she can hear is noise, and she didn’t ever think she was _that_ loud in bed, but Josh is doing this _thing_ with his mouth, and his fingers, and. “Fuck me,” Niall moans, and means it, but it takes her a second to realize exactly _how_ she means it. “Both ways,” she clarifies, and then, shaking her head, “I mean, I meant it both ways, the literal and- _Josh_ ,” she ends, exasperated, a clear cry for him to take over. Obviously she needs some help.

“I like it,” Josh mumbles, voice lower than Niall thinks she’s ever heard it, teeth grazing her pulse. “Think we can get rid of the top?”

“Yours goes, too,” Niall decides, pushing at his chest, and she slips her tank over her head, fumbles her bra off, something (thankfully) not-ratty and awful. Clearly luck’s on her side tonight.

Niall’s seen Josh shirtless on a near-daily basis for essentially all of the tour, but it’s _different_ in this light- she can look now, doesn’t care one bit if she’s caught tracing the lines of his abs with her eyes. It shouldn’t be a problem, she decides, if she uses her hands, too.

Josh goes quiet under her touch, head tipping back, throat working like he can’t quite swallow past something caught in his throat, and his hands tighten at the top of her ribs, fingertips unconsciously pressing in under her arms. “Niall,” he whispers, after a minute, eyes still closed, face still to the ceiling. “Niall, um. Please.”

“Fuck,” Niall says, possibly her favorite word tonight. “Yeah, right, okay.”

The next logical thought that crosses her mind is to get rid of her shorts, but she frowns at the thought of seeming easy. Is that something she should be worrying about at this point? She has to let Josh know, of course. “I’m gonna take my shorts off now, but I’m not a slag, okay?”

It makes much more sense in her head, clearly, and Josh’s confused expression confirms that, but he nods.

“I don’t think that,” he says, and kisses her, just a short kiss that presses their mouths together long enough for him to lick across her lower lip and smile as he pulls back. 

Niall backs up a little on the couch, thumbing under her shorts and pulling them off awkwardly. She feels like her legs must flail unattractively in the effort, but Josh doesn’t laugh, he’s just- watching, which apparently is a thing that he does. Niall wishes she’d noticed sooner.

She’s wearing stupid pokeball-printed boyshorts, and they’re faded from being washed with Harry’s darks too many times. She’s also painfully aware of the fact that the crotch is nearly soaked through. 

“Okay,” she says, effectively snapping Josh out of his thoughts, and crawls properly onto his lap, straddling his thighs. “So.”

“So,” Josh echoes, smiling a bit goofily, giddy. “Those are cute.”

“Please, let’s get to the sexy bit,” Niall groans, and really, when she cups Josh through his sweats she doesn’t expect it to be as effective as it turns out to be in the getting him to shut his mouth department.

Josh squirms. “Pants,” he gets out, like it’s a trial to make his mouth form the single word, and his hands are splayed over her hips again, as if they belong there, but he moves them to her shoulders, thumbs pressing into the base of her neck, “Niall, yeah?”

Niall sighs and scrambles backwards out of his lap, dropping to her knees on the bus’ carpet floor, tapping at his hipbones. “Lift,” she orders, and it’s kind of a big deal, right, getting his pants off at last, but she doesn’t really think about it, just pulls them down and kisses his knee, on impulse, hangs onto it for support as she stands back up to straddle his lap once more. “Better?”

“Better,” he agrees. For a moment, Niall’s not sure if he’s going to, but she knows Josh well enough that she can predict the way his eyes travel down her torso, settling on her knickers. “I don’t think you’re a slag,” he repeats, and then slips a hand past her waistband, fingertips pressing gently right at her clit. “You’re,” he starts, and Niall realizes he’s _blushing_ , genuinely, absolutely, straight across his cheekbones, bright and painfully hot-looking. “wet,” he ends, barely a whisper, biting his lip.

“Yeah,” Niall agrees- not sure to what, but she does. She grinds her hips down, searching for the pressure, the friction she’s been craving that feels so good coming from Josh, of all people she could have.

Josh still seems awed by the discovery, though, fingertips dipping and swirling easily around her clit, and he leans in to kiss at her neck again, too, as if too overwhelmed to face her for this. “Can I?” he murmurs, and Niall isn’t really sure what he’s referring to, assumes- but his hand curls lower in her underwear, his middle finger sliding down and pressing, cautiously, at her opening. 

“Fuck, shit, okay,” Niall babbles, throws her head back and swivels her hips. Josh is rubbing at her just right, and his finger isn’t nearly enough but Niall’s not about to be greedy, not when Josh so nicely went and got them a condom. She likes the stretch, anyway, and she knows Josh isn’t exactly small, so she settles for rocking her hips and trying to keep Josh’s rhythm on her clit.

Josh exhales warm against her throat, and lets his mouth fall open against the curve of her shoulder, dipping down to suck at her collarbone. She doesn’t realize he’s talking until he’s in the middle of a sentence, but- “gonna ride my cock like you’re doing my hand right now, Niall?”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Niall groans, because she definitely wasn’t expecting the dirty talk, and comes with a shudder, dropping her head onto Josh’s shoulder.

He pets her through it, a hand gentle on her side and the one in her knickers stilling, just letting her rub herself off against him. The first thing she hears through the rushing in her ears is his soft chuckling, hidden against her neck.

After recollecting her thoughts, Niall pulls her head away and looks at him, smiling. “So about that offer.”

Josh shrugs, still laughing a little. “Just the first thing that came t’mind, honest, I’m up for anything.”

“You make sex _fun_ ,” Niall grins, absolutely delighted. “Condom, Josh, c’mon.” She lifts her leg carefully and sits at Josh’s side, legs spread. On second thought, she shimmies out of her boyshorts, dropping them at her feet.

Josh leans forward gingerly, adjusting himself with one hand and slides off the couch to grab for the condom foil with the other, bringing it up to his mouth and ripping it open between his teeth, wrinkling his nose at Niall’s raised eyebrows. Holding up his, admittedly, rather sticky hand, he wiggles his fingers. “Remember this?” 

“What,” Niall teases, “want me to put it on?” She’s much more relaxed, thankful for Josh’s consideration, but they’re not nearly done yet. Won’t be for a while, if Niall has her way.

Josh’s face goes slack and then he mock-frowns at her tone, challenges, “If you want, sure.”

Only then does Niall realize that Josh is- Josh is really very naked, and hard, dick pressed up against his tummy, the very tip flushed red and shiny, and for a moment Niall forgets what they’re talking about again. She holds her hand out for the condom and takes a deep breath, poorly faking exasperation, and chews on her lip when he steps in front of her. She’s certain that they’re both holding their breath as she carefully rolls the latex over him.

“So there,” she breathes, finally.

“Wow,” Josh whispers, and he’s staring down at her hand, still hovering close, and when their eyes meet it’s as if the bubble pops- he grins, and then bites his lip against the laughter spilling out as he traces her jaw with his still-damp fingers. “So.”

“So,” Niall decides, “you’re gonna sit.”

“Yeah?” Josh is swaying a little, and he looks grateful. Grateful, and really, really turned-on, thumbing over Niall’s lower lip and sinking back onto the couch beside her. “I can do that.”

“We’re off to a great start,” Niall smiles, stands almost as soon as Josh sits. She kneels on the couch like before, bracing Josh’s thighs, and keeps her lower lip firmly between her teeth as she grasps the base of Josh’s cock and, other hand on his shoulder for support, sinks down.

Josh makes a noise that Niall can’t begin to translate, the tiniest little whine, and his head had been bowed to watch, but it snaps up now, his eyes fixing on hers, gone wide and glossy. “Ni,” he gasps, and suddenly his hands are on her hips, fingers digging in tight. 

“You gonna fuck me, then?” Niall challenges, breathy, because Josh is much bigger than the single finger he’d given her before, and the stretch is _fantastic_ , much better than anything Niall’s had in months.

Josh’s mouth is open, and his tongue comes out to wet his lower lip desperately as he swallows hard, gives a little nod. “That what you want, Niall? ‘ll do it, if you ask nice.”

“Oh, bastard,” Niall grumbles, tries to rock her hips but Josh is holding her still. “Fuck me,” she asks, whines for the effect, “Please, Josh, yeah? You’re a drummer, live up to the hype, c’mon.”

Josh gives her a little grin at that, tilts his head to kiss her, suck at her lips and then push his tongue into her mouth. She’s pulling away to complain when his hands go impossibly tighter at her waist, and he’s lifting her up and then- his hips come up, sharp, like a punch against hers and forcing her legs wider. 

Niall grips Josh’s shoulder hard, nails digging in and surely leaving marks instantly, and she moans, loud, uninhibited. “Like _that_ ,” she whines, doesn’t dare try to move herself lest she make Josh stop when all she needs is for him to do what he just did, over and over.

Josh’s hands shift, fingertips at the curve of her ass now, thumbs still digging into her hipbones, and he makes it seem so easy, the ability to lift her up off his dick and- this time, rather than move to her, he simply pulls her back down, hard, and it’s only when she’s almost entirely seated in his lap that he snaps his hips up to meet hers. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Niall moans, the full extent of her present vocabulary.

Once he’s proven his point, it’s easy for Josh to settle into a quick, hard rhythm, bouncing Niall in his lap and only shifting minutely to angle his thrusts differently, trying to find exactly what makes her the loudest.

He gets lucky when he’s lifted her nearly all the way off his dick, is just holding her with the head rubbing at her entrance, grinning as she curses him and his drum kit and whoever hired him anyway, and then leans forward, moving one arm under her ass so that he’s cradling her close to his chest as he pushes her back down. It’s just enough of a change that her hips are tilted _up_ , against his, and he somehow gets _deeper_.

Niall almost screams, even though somewhere in the back of her mind she knows there must be other people on the bus and Paul would maul her if she ruined her voice. What comes out is more of a choked “ _Josh_ ,” the very kind that she _knows_ Louis would imitate if he could hear them, and for a moment she wishes _everyone_ could hear this, Zayn and his stupid drawings and Liam and his politeness and stupid Harry and Louis.

“Fuck, harder,” she shudders, fingers finding the hair at the back of Josh’s head and pulling hard.

For the first time, he moans, eyes squinching up tight as his hips jerk. When he opens his eyes again, it’s obvious that none of it was intentional, but it’s too late, and Niall is rocking her hips against his, breaking his concentration for good. “Niall,” and his voice sounds _wrecked_ , low and gritty and desperate. “Niall, baby, c’mon,” he says, and doesn’t even pause at the endearment slipping out, just kisses her, pleadingly, sloppy-messy as they move together hard and fast. “Niall, c’mon, for me, wanna feel you all tight an’-” 

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, and wants to thank whoever’s in charge of the world when he somehow gets a hand between them, even though they’re pressed almost stomach to stomach now. Josh gets his fingers on her clit again and it’s exactly what she needs, comes hard within seconds, gasping.

The world is still spinning for her, head too light for her to properly hold it up, but she catches the look on Josh’s face, something like awe, again, and relief and pride, and she wants to be the one to put that look there for- Niall thinks it might just be endorphins, knows she _should_ think it’s just endorphins, but somehow even when all the blood in her body is knotted up in her stomach, and her hips keep rolling, greedy, against Josh’s, she knows that’s not it. 

He comes quickly, after that, an arm still under her ass, holding her up, and a hand in her hair, tangled messily, like he just couldn’t resist. And he says her name, too, somewhere in there, a repetition of syllables against the skin just under her ear, broken up by kisses.

It takes considerable effort (and a nudge at Josh’s arm for help) for Niall to lift herself off of Josh and fall back onto the couch, spread out, shameless and spent and blissful. After a moment of seeming internal debate, he knots the condom and sets it on the floor, and squeezes in carefully between Niall and the back of the couch, throws an arm over her waist and pushes his face into her neck.

As she snuffles into Josh’s hair and closes her eyes, Niall hopes the scent of sex will ward off anyone who tries to wander to the back of the band bus in the morning.

Everything is quiet, save for their slowly calming breathing, until Josh mutters something unintelligible against her throat. Niall doesn’t have the energy to ask him to repeat it, but he must just _know_ , because another minute later, he asks, louder, “D’you need a blanket?” 

“ ‘re you offering one?” Niall mumbles, because the sweat cooling over her chest and the chill of the air conditioning make a deadly combo.

“Right,” Josh says, and Niall didn’t actually think he’d do it (thought maybe he’d use his apparent magical sex skills to summon a blanket directly to them or something), but he gets up, careful of her legs, and digs around in the small cabinet under the tv, shakes out what appears to be a twin-sized sheet with... “ ‘s’at Star Wars?” she asks, fuzzily, and they end up falling asleep laughing, after all.<


End file.
